Member
Forsythe
Captain Uni
Hound55
Antlers
Master Bruce
BoomBadaBing
Lord Wraith
Eddie Brock
Natty
Konan375
Sorry to double post but here's my backup if the above isn't acceptedC H A R A C T E R C O N C E P T P R O P O S A LU S A G E N T”Witty Quote"J O H N W A L K E R ♦ G O V E R N M E N T A G E N T ♦ A M E R I C AO R I G I N S:It’s hard to sum up the kind of man John Walker is. Born after a war-hero older brother, taken too soon from the world, John grew up in the shadow of Mike’s legacy (a position he gladly took, looking up to his brother a lot). As soon as he was old enough Joh enrolled in the army, hoping to live up to the Mike’s legend. As a result of this fixation on his older brother (one that his parents made no effort to curb), John never really grew into his own man. This was made especially evident after he was honourably discharged after an accident left him with one paralyzed leg, a stump where the other should have been and, a new void where his lofty goals once laid.
EMPTY VESSEL
Coming back home was a fate worse than death for John; his parents wouldn’t say it but the feeling of shame that their son had done so little in comparison to his brother was palpable. John spent his days in physio, going to church and listening to podcasts to drown out his internal dread. One of these church trips turned flipped John’s downward spiral as his parents got to chatting with another regular of the congregation. There had been an exponential uptick in strange events over the past couple months and, reading the writing on the wall, the woman had managed to get funding for a new government agency to investigate and tackle these possible issues outside the scope of conventional law enforcement. Handing John’s parents his card, Ms.Bordeaux expressed her interest in meeting with their son after hearing his story.
DEAL MADE
Skeptical at first, John wasn’t sure what he had to offer anymore but he wasn’t one to turn down a call from his country. Being flown out to Oregon, John was met with a dark and forboding building in the middle of the forest, Ms.Bordeaux for the first time and an offer; serve his country by become the point man for the fledgling group, becoming a symbol of law and order to those who thought themselves above the law due to their genetic quirk, perceived intellectual superiority or supernatural abilities. In return John would not only regain the use of his bad leg but be able to walk, run and endure more than he could have ever believed. John had stopped listening after the offer to serve his country. Still in it’s fledgling stages, John works as the USAgent; figurehead, heavy-hitter and mascot for the Abnormal Research Group of the United States.
PUPPET MADE WHOLES A M P L E P O S T:Recent events seemed to blur together for John Walker. He wasn’t sure whether it was because of his new position and promise of being able to walk again or if it was all the meds he’d been doped up with. The long hallway he was being wheeled down might have been scary or forbidding had it not been for the seemingly frantic and erratic actions of the construction crew. Apparently this whole facility hadn’t been here a week ago with an equal amount of pieces being built on site, getting brought in or, only acting as temporary housing for the crew being brought on to Ms.Bordeaux’s motley group. Despite the cacophony of noise John couldn’t tune into any one conversation only snippets like…
“…pod ready?”
“…real, contemporary Captain…”
“…any backups?”
In what felt like a blink of an eye, John was being helped out of his chair and into what looked like a copper coffin with a porthole. If he had to describe it more thoroughly, he’d say it looked like an old-timey diving bell but even if he did decide to share his thought with the class, John knew it would come out slurred and unintelligible. No, he’d keep his mouth shut and save some of his remaining dignity as nurses and doctors strapped him into the device that would supposedly help him walk again.
“Listen John” one of the doctors said, snapping their fingers in front of his face to draw his scattered attention “we’re putting you under. You might find yourself lucid dreaming. If you do, stay calm; too much panicking while you’re under might make you hurt yourself. Just count sheep till you wake up.”
John gave (what he thought was) a nod towards the doctor as everyone finally stepped away from him, closing the coffin’s lid on him. The porthole let ample light in but that did little to alleviate the growing fear. On the battlefield you at least had autonomy, control over yourself when faced with a threat but here drugged up, missing a leg and locked away; John felt terrified. This wasn’t helped any as his vision began to fade as gas was pumped in. He kept his composure, only just barely, until sleep finally took him…
WELCOME
…And then he was awake, or more precisely, conscious. He found himself in a void; not an overwhelming, all consuming blackness but just a lacking of anything worthy of note aside from John and the ground beneath him. The doctor’s word rang vividly through his mind and therefore around him in this place between consciousness. John sat himself down and began counting fluffy white sheep which seemed to now already be there, hopping an impossibly long fence. Sheep after sheep went by and pretty soon John found himself in the triple digits, beginning to get concerned.
TOO MUCH CLUTTER
”Should I be out this long? How long have I actually been out? Always feels like’a lifetime after you wake up but this still seems like too much.” John thought to himself, his thoughts being projected onto the landscape before him once more as growing unease crept in. Feeling himself slipping, he got back to his task at hand and began counting white fluffy shee-
ALL BETTER. HELLO
The sheep were gone save for one, black ram locking eyes with John as he gnawed away at a patch of grass, sprouted from just under the fence. John hadn’t tried imagining this one. It had just been there when it shouldn’t have. What made him switch pallets? How was he supposed to count just the one ram? And why couldn’t he stop thinking about it? None of these thoughts rang out around John, like he’d been cut off from whatever stream of consciousness that let him interact here. Instead he was now at the mercy of his own subconscious and this one sheep.
SEE YOU AGAIN SOON
”Baaaaa……aaand we’re done!”
John blinked the sleep away as the muffled voice of the doctor brought him back to the waking world. Immediately John felt off. He felt pumped, like he’d just finished a work out sans any tiredness and his legs felt like they were aslee-
Legs?
Even in the dim confines of the tube, John could just make out the shape of two legs underneath him, a view he would get a much better look at a moment later as the coffin popped open and light illuminated his wiggling toes and very pink, very much intact right leg. Stunned into silence, John couldn’t peel his eyes off his newly restored form until a familiar snapping brought his gaze back up to the doctor.
“I know you’re amazed and all, it’s a miracle after all, but boss lady wants you suited up and outta here. We’ve got some questionably credible intel about a…” the doctor pulled up a message on her phone “…quote, tall furry figure harassing hikers near the Canada-USA border end-quote.”P O S T C A T A L O G:A list linking to your IC posts as they're created. This can be used for a reference guide to your character or to summarize completed interactions and stories.
Jokes on you, you are better than me and didn't double post
